The Old Fashioned Way
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Support Group, Muggle!AU, Draco didn't think he'd see anyone he knew, especially not the boy he fancies in his university classes. Read with care, triggers abound.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Challenge list at the bottom.**

 **Word Count Without AN - 2992**

 **Possibly triggering - Abuse / Internal and external homophobia / Child Abuse**

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 **The Old Fashioned Way**

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The door was normal, a glass window framed with light wood. The handle was normal, bronze in colour. And yet, Draco had never found opening a door so daunting.

A cough behind him startled him, and he turned to find an older man watching him with something close to pity in his eyes.

Forcing the fear away, Draco opened the door and stepped into the nondescript room. There was nothing special about it at all. Plain white walls, with posters placed randomly, a small table with brewing equipment and a few different flavours of juice, along with a stack of cups, the same kind of cups Draco got from Starbucks religiously in the mornings.

In the middle of the room was a circle of hardback chairs, and milling around were a handful of people, some of them talking quietly with each other, others standing alone with the same awkward look on their faces that Draco felt.

Awkward.

What on earth was he doing here?

He almost spun on his heel and left before anyone even took a seat, but a flash of messy black hair stopped him. He'd know that hair anywhere, he stared at it enough when he was supposed to be concentrating in class.

Sure enough, when the owner of the hair turned around, Draco met green eyes that widened in shock.

"Potter," he greeted calmly when the man crossed the room to him. There was a fire in his eyes, and it made a shiver run down Draco's spine.

"Malfoy."

"What are you…" Draco trailed off, suddenly aware that he was about to ask a very stupid question. The realisation was further confirmed when Harry raised his eyebrow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Harry admitted after a moment.

Draco shrugged, shoving his hands in his pocket. "I didn't expect anyone I know to be here, or I wouldn't have come."

Harry nodded, scuffing his foot against the floor. "I won't tell anyone. I promise."

Returning the nod, Draco replied, "Ditto."

They were called to their seats, and Draco made sure he wasn't sitting beside Harry, instead sitting almost directly across from him. Oddly enough, Harry's presence had calmed him somewhat, and he didn't feel so much like he needed to run away.

"Welcome back, and to our new people, welcome. I'm Minerva, and I'm here to oversee you as you talk about whatever it is you're here to talk about, as well as offer support. Remember, we are not here to judge one another."

She sat down, and Draco shifted nervously in his seat as her eyes passed over him. She offered him a small smile and moved on, looking around the circle.

"Would anyone like to start us off?"

There was a pregnant pause before the woman sitting next to Harry raised a shaky hand.

Draco listened as the woman talked about the abuse her now ex-husband had heaped on her, about the mental abuse and the physical, about the way she was still now scared to try a new relationship, for fear that she'd find herself in the same situation.

He couldn't stop his eyes from moving to Harry though, watching him biting his lip as he gave the woman his full attention. Even from across the room, he could see the pain in Harry's eyes as he listened to the woman's story.

It was truly tragic, and it made Draco push himself back in his seat, suddenly feeling as though he didn't deserve to be there.

When the woman finished talking, and a few of the others offered supportive comments, Minerva looked around the room once more.

"Who wants to go next?"

They listened to three more people before a break was called. Draco thought to head for the door as the others made a beeline for the refreshments, but Minerva stopped him with her hand on his arm.

"You have as much right to be here and want support as anyone else. There's no necessary amount of trauma required. Your feelings are as valid as anyone else's."

Draco stayed back as the others, feeling more comfortable, conversed between themselves, Minerva's words echoing through his mind.

He couldn't remember the last time, if any, someone had told him his feelings were valid.

They reconvened after twenty minutes, and people seemed to be more willing to spill their feelings now, the hands raising much quicker. As the clock ticked towards eight o clock, and the end of the session, Minerva smiled at Harry.

"Care to share how you're getting on?"

Harry looked at Draco for a moment before he turned back to Minerva.

"This week has been pretty good," he informed her with a grin. "I feel like I might've turned a corner last week. I spoke to Ron three days ago."

Minerva's smile widened, and a few of the other people all congratulated him. Draco felt wildly curious about what could have happened to Potter that exchanging words with someone could gain such a response.

"Well done, Harry, that's definitely progress."

Draco left that first meeting without speaking, but he still felt he'd gained something, and he knew he'd return the following week.

…

"Feel like sharing this evening?"

Draco jumped and turned to find Minerva behind him. She smiled in apology for startling him, but she didn't take her gaze away from him.

"I'm not sure. Maybe," he replied, unwilling to commit himself. He really wasn't sure how to put into words what was eating at him.

She nodded, looking thoughtful. "There's no pressure," she assured him. "If you don't want to speak, nobody will force you to."

"What's with the balloons?" he asked, nodding to the balloons laying around the back of the room. "Seems like a strange addition."

She rolled her eyes. "There was a party here last night. Apparently, they decided not to clean up after themselves."

Draco snorted, offering her a small smile, before he walked over to the circle of chairs. He took the same seat as he had the week previous, though Harry had yet to arrive. It was only as Minerva called the meeting to a start did he walk through the door.

She looked at him, and Draco watched as the two exchanged a complicated conversation, with only a few movements in expression. Harry took his seat without taking his coat off, and seemed to wrap his arms around himself as though in protection.

Protection from what, Draco had no idea.

Looking around the circle, Draco saw a few familiar faces from the week before, but realised there were five or six new people there.

Minerva repeated her welcome spiel from the week before, almost word for word, and one of the new people stuck her hand up immediately when they were asked who wanted to start them off.

The woman, younger than Draco for sure, was fiddling with a ribbon as she told the group of her troubles. She'd had the best upbringing, she said, wealth, love, happiness. And then, her father had been caught and found guilty of fraud.

Gone was the nice house and nice cars, the designer clothes and the diamonds. She cried when she talked of having to move into a small flat with her mother.

Draco kept his face blank. Minerva had said there was no judgement there, and he would keep those rules, to the best of his ability. That the first woman from last week was in his mind's eye was another matter.

Instead he turned his attention back to Harry. The green eyes that were usually so alive, seemed dull. His face was passive, as though he was there in body and elsewhere in mind. Draco felt a sliver of worry for him.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Harry around the campus for the last few days, and he'd been absent from the class they'd shared that morning.

During the break, he tried to get close to where Harry was standing with Minerva, wanting to ask him if he was okay, but not wanting to eavesdrop on a private conversation, but he had no joy. Minerva stayed with him the entire break.

When the circle was complete once more, Minerva raised her eyebrow at Harry in question. When Harry nodded, Minerva smiled encouragingly at him, and turned her attention back to the group.

"Since we have a lot of newcomers, Harry has agreed to tell the basics of his story again, in an effort to explain what he needs to talk about now. I ask that those of you that have heard this story respect the repetition, because it is necessary."

Draco watched Harry take a deep breath before he let it out shakily. He was gripping at the sleeves of his jacket tightly.

"When I was one, my parents were murdered. The murderer tried to kill me too, but by some medical miracle, I survived. I was sent to live with my only living relatives, Aunt Petunia, and her husband and young son.

"They weren't happy to have me, but they wanted the inheritance I would gain when I turned eighteen. They kept me to try and fight the courts for early access. They were… the worst kind of guardians."

Draco saw Harry glance at Minerva as he said that, and saw the approving nod he got in response.

"My cousin, Dudley, grew up knowing that he could beat me up without consequences. He also fell into the knowledge that if he did anything wrong, I would be the one to bear the punishment.

"When he was sixteen, and I was fifteen," Harry paused, swallowing hard. "I saved his life. He never learnt to swim, and he fell into the deep end of an outdoor pool. I… very nearly didn't jump in after him."

"You're doing well, Harry," Minerva encouraged when he paused.

"When we got home, Dudley told his parents that I'd been the one to push him in the water. I hadn't, of course, he'd been smoking weed with his friends and they were fooling around, an accident was all it was.

"My uncle put me in hospital for almost killing his son."

Harry let out another shaky breath. "When I was in the hospital, I met a family, the Weasleys. One of their son's, George, got violently bit by a dog and lost his ear, but anyway, their youngest son was my age, and we became friends. He was called Ron.

"Ron, George, and his twin, Fred, were the best friends I could've asked for. When I was seventeen, Fred and George got their own place, and they offered to let me live with them. I was only a few months off getting my inheritance anyway, and…"

Harry paused again, shifting in his seat. A single tear fell from his eye onto his cheek.

"They picked me up in a beat up Ford Anglia that belonged to their parents. We'd just finished putting my stuff in the car when my uncle got home. He went crazy, he was fuming that I was trying to leave without handing over any of my inheritance.

"We managed to get away, but he chased us and…" he choked out a sob, cutting off his words. "Sorry. He crashed into us. Fred, he died. I hadn't been able to face the Weasleys, survivors guilt, but I saw Ron last week, I told you."

Minerva reached over to squeeze his hand. "You're doing so well, Harry. Onto what's upset you this week. You can do this."

"I got a letter from Dudley. He wants to meet up, put the past behind us. He told me I should let my anger go, but… but I don't want to let it go. It took me a really long time to even admit to myself that I was abused, I don't want to just… pretend it didn't happen."

Draco swallowed around the lump in his throat. Seeing Harry in class and around campus, he'd never have guessed that he'd been through as much as he'd been through. He thought about watching him in class, the way he chewed on his pens when he was thinking, and the way he ran a hand through his hair when we was frustrated.

He thought about the way Harry always helped his fellow students if he could, and the way he was friendly to everyone who spoke to him.

Draco could admit to himself that he found Harry attractive, hell, it was part of the reason he was at the support group to begin with, but to hear that he'd been through so much and still come out the other side, so kind and thoughtful.

It made Draco hope that he too could be the person he wanted to be, rather than the person he was brought up to be.

"You should only let it go if it's hurting you to hold on to it," he said quietly. He'd surprised himself by speaking at all, and when Harry's eyes met his, Draco felt his cheeks heat. "Don't hold onto it if it's holding you back… but don't meet up with your cousin unless it's what you want to do. He has no right to ask for your time, or your forgiveness."

Harry nodded, and a few of the others put in their thoughts, but Harry's eyes never left Draco.

"Would anyone else like to talk?" Minerva asked after a few minutes. "We have time for one more person."

Feeling his hand trembling, Draco raised it slowly, his eyes still on Harry. If, after everything he'd been through, Harry could find the courage to speak, then so could Draco.

Minerva nodded to him, offering him the same encouraging smile she had Harry.

"My father… is a bastard," Draco started, shuddering slightly at the words. "I was brought up to expect the cane if I stepped even a toe out of line - without actually knowing where the line was. I was expected to know what it meant to be a Malfoy instinctively."

He shook his head.

"When I came out as gay, I didn't only fall out of line, I destroyed the line. He blamed me for the destruction of one of his best investment deals, because the man he was trying to work with wanted me to marry his daughter, and when the news got out, the man took personal offence.

"I was disowned, cut off from the family entirely, and… well. I was left alone. Thankfully, I managed to get a partial scholarship for university, and student loans to cover the rest. I just… it took me a really long time to admit to myself that I fancied men, and then the reaction I got… I'm having a hard time being true to myself without fear of further rejection."

Draco stopped, squeezing his hands together until his knuckles were white while he waited for the condemnation that was sure to come.

"That was really brave, to come out to your family, Draco," Harry murmured. "I never found the courage to admit that I was gay. Not to them. Even though it didn't turn out the way you hoped, you should still be proud of yourself for standing up for who you are, and getting on with your life. That takes a lot of strength."

"Yeah, your dad is the wrong one, not you," said an older woman sitting close to Minerva. "You're a young man with your life ahead of you. One day, your father will regret not accepting you for who you are."

"Well done for speaking, Draco," Minerva said quietly. "That alone takes strength and is a very good first step to healing. I think we're done for tonight, but I'll see you all next week."

Draco stood up on slightly shaky legs and let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He wait for the first rush of people to leave before he walked slowly to the exit.

Harry was waiting for him outside.

"You did well in there," he told him, leaning against the wall. "Talking for the first time is terrifying."

Draco nodded, smiling shyly at Harry. "I hope you have a better week, this week," he offered quietly.

"Do you want a lift back to the campus?" Harry offered, standing up straight and nodding to the car park.

Hesitating for a moment, Draco nodded. He hated getting the night bus. He followed Harry to his car and climbed into the passenger seat. They drove in a comfortable silence, and when Harry pulled onto the campus, Draco directed him to the dorm he was living in.

Harry passed him a piece of paper. "If you want a lift next week… or if you want to just, I don't know, meet up for coffee or whatever, that's my number."

"I don't need pity," Draco snapped before he could stop himself.

"Good, I don't have any to give," Harry replied simply. "I have it from a reliable source that the person I've been lusting over for months is also gay, and I just gave him my number in a way that wasn't overly obvious. It's what all the magazines say to do, or at least that's what Hermione tells me."

Draco snorted. "Smooth."

Harry grinned. "See you in class, Draco."

…

Draco didn't call Harry for a lift to the next support group session, and neither of them spoke that night, except to offer small bits of advice.

When it ended, Draco was the first out of the room, though he didn't get far.

When Harry came out, Draco was leaning against the wall waiting for him. "I thought about what you said, and decided that magazine advice is stupid," Draco said, when Harry approached him.

"Oh?"

Draco nodded sagely. "I'd much rather do it the old fashioned way."

"Which is?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Dinner?"

"Love to."

* * *

 **Written for;**

 **Meet Cute,** Day 5

 **WC, Disney** \- Aladdin; Write about a survivor

 **WC, Book Club** \- Trashcan Man; Fire / Destruction / Black

 **WC, Showtime** \- 13. Wonderful; Balloons

 **WC, Character Appreciation** \- 12. Reliable

 **WC, Lyric Alley** \- 4. But I don't wanna let it go.

 **Library Lovers, Floor 3** \- A Series of Unfortunate Events; Tragic / Biting / Ribbon


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